


All Hell Breaks Loose

by crowleyshouseplant (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Gen, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse, Supernatural AU: Psychic Kids Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-31
Updated: 2011-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crowleyshouseplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azazel's Psychic Kids in the End Verse.</p><p>Additional Warnings: language, death!fic, mild drug use (pot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hell Breaks Loose

When she feels the disturbance of the air, the rush of sulphur flooding her nose and lungs, she wipes her sleeve across the chalkboard, rubbing away the words  _I will not kill_ because it helps her to remember that she’s Ava Wilson from Indiana. The town is on the tip of her tongue. If she had time to fill the board up two more times, she’d remember for reals. Ava puts the chalk back on the ledge. It’s easier pretending she’s helpless and terrified and lost. She always makes the demon lock her up, nice and tight so that the others don’t fear her. So that the others won’t wonder how she got so hard, her heart like flint. The demon doesn’t mind. Small payback is better than no payback.

Still. She’s glad it’s Sam instead of some stranger who let’s her out. She had forgotten about Sam.

As she sobs into his shirt, as she hugs him, she wonder if maybe he’ll break the cycle.

Maybe his brother Dean, the guy for whom he walked into an explosive trap, would do the same for him.

Maybe, they’ll survive together.

But she’s not going to hold her breath.

She would have told Sam the truth—maybe—but there’s someone else there. A short fellow with scruff and silver on his lobes. She pretends not to notice him.

They meet up with the others—there are always others. She notices Lily leave. But she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she sends the demon to look after her, even though the demon doesn’t want to. Even though the demon warns her that she’ll let her compadres do whatever the fuck they wanna do to her. Even though she’ll laugh and point when they do, with her nails all claws and a smile on her fucking little face.

 _Just do it, Sarah_ .

The demon hates that she calls it Sarah.

Ava doesn’t care.

Other demons try take Lily. It’s hard to keep them at bay.

Ava doesn’t succeed. But she has to pretend to be excited about salt while she’s yelling at Sarah to cut Lily down before she asphyxiates. It gives her a hell of a migraine, but they find her when she’s on the ground, neck bruised and crushed.

But alive.

That’s all that really mattered in the end—before they tried to kill her.

Ava’s never claimed to be a saint. But she won’t lay down and let somebody kill her.

She’ll kill them first.

Had done so first.

She’d wondered if Brady had died. When Sam says that yeah, he really was dead, she cries into his shirt again. She thinks the tears are more real this time, but she’s not really sure.

Maybe it’s not that much of a surprise.

She’d shed tears over his loss and all the others’ as she had dug their graves.

Sam’s body is warm against the cold, misty air. He smells like gun powder and day old hamburgers.

He smells like a weapon. He’s tall, so tall. So big. Like a grizzly bear. A moose.

She hopes—desperately—that he won’t try to kill her.

There are so many demons here. So many angry ghosts. It’s hard to control them all. She can’t. She’s glad that Sam’s a hunter for that reason.

Even though she and Sarah do her best, a demon still stabs Sam through the spine.

Dean’s there and he cries and cries and cries.

Ava wants to tell him it’s okay. It’s nothing special.

All the children die.

Eventually.

She and Jake and Andy and Lily follow Dean and the older man out of the town. They go to a bus station. Andy says, “I have a van. There’s an amazon warrior queen riding a polar bear on it. And pot. Lots of pot.”

They don’t say anything, but they follow Andy home. Ava figures she doesn’t have a home anymore if Brady’s dead. Jake—who knows. But he probably doesn’t have a home anymore, either. Lily? Ava doesn’t know, but she tags along. Glad to be out of the town.

“San Diego is overrated,” Lily says as the bus guns its engines.

They pile into Andy’s van. There isn’t room for the Yellow-Eyed man. Only in their nightmares. But with enough pot in their systems, there’s not enough room for him in there either.

And Andy’s got Moby Dick’s bong so it works out alright in the end.

One day, Ava says to Lily: Let me touch you.

Lily refuses. She doesn’t want to kill Ava.

It doesn’t matter, Ava says. You see Andy? You think he wouldn’t take the nightmares away if his powers actually worked on us?

Lily doesn’t want to risk it.

Ava dares her: I dare you to let me touch your cheek. I double dare you. I double dog dare you. And you know what they say about the black dogs: death omen, and she giggles and pot-smoke drifts from her open lips like she’s a fucking dragon.

And Ava knows Lily is higher than the stratosphere when she says: fine. See if I fucking care if you die.

So Ava drags her fingertips down Lily’s cheek, traces the shape of her mouth with her thumb, coaxes her lips open and then Lily darts out her tongue, tastes the pot-seared fingers of Ava Wilson.

Andy and Jake stare at each other. Jake returns to Langston Hughes. Andy to Dante.

I told you, Ava says.

Tears slip down Lily’s cheeks as she throws herself towards Ava, drags Ava’s arms around her, presses cheek to cheek until they’re glued, and they cling to each other and they cling and they cling and they cling like they’re in a hurricane, like they’re going to die, like the Yellow-Eyed man is after them again.

When the boys are asleep, Ava gives Lily her first orgasm since she accidentally killed her girlfriend, palm pressed tight over her mouth as Lily trembles and shakes beneath her.

 _Then Sam caressed Dean’s clavicle. “This is wrong,” said Dean. “Then I don’t want to be right,” Sam replied in a husky voice._  It takes a while for Ava to be able to continue, laughing and laughing as the words stall in her throat, and Lily snakes her hand into hers, and Andy collapses against the side of his van, laughing and laughing as Jake smirks quietly into his palms, rubbing his forehead and his cheek and his adam’s apple.

When Jake found the books about Sam and Dean—about Ava and Them—they had gotten so drunk and high because people read about their nightmares and enjoyed it. And then Ava found fanfiction on the internet. And it was the end. Sometimes the special psychic kids showed up—but the general favorite was wincest.

Andy says it’s okay they’re a story. It meant it meant something. That it just wasn’t—

shit hitting the fan, Jake says.

They were the biggest fans of wincest, especially after they read/heard about Dean’s deal to save Sam.

Jake says, that night, after they finished reading the series together: I’d do anything—you know that right? I’d do anything for any of you. I’d die.

Andy says, I’d go Anakin for you—and Ava knows he’s saying the truth because he fucking hates the prequels— _I’d go darkside for you_ .

Lily says, while looking at Ava— I’d never have sex again.

And Ava? Ava just says: I’d invite Sarah over for tea and crumpets, just like the good old days.

The pot makes her giggle. It makes everybody giggle inside a van with a woman riding a polar bear on it.

But hey. That’s a pretty funny image, Ava thinks as she falls asleep on her side, Lily’s hair in her mouth.

What the fuck kind of woman rides a polar bear in a metal bikini?

We gotta do something, Jake says. Lily agrees.

According to Carver Edlund, it’s the apocalypse. And he aint’ ever been wrong once.

What do you think we can do, Ava says because she’s tired of demons. Of hell.

Just because we’re hobbits, Andy says, doesn’t mean we can’t trek our way to Mount Doom and save the ever-living world.

So they try. They do their damndest. They find Bobby Singer. They find Dean Winchester. They find a goddamned angel of the lord who gets laid up with a broken foot and Ava wonders if that laughter she’s hearing is really hers, and it must be because Lily kicks her in the shins.

A fallen angel isn’t funny, Ava.

 _It isn’t?_

Funny, because Cas seems to be laughing with her.

But they’re both higher than kites so who the fuck knows.

Since they’re Azazel’s Psychic Kids, they’re immune to the Croatoan Virus, just like Sam used to be. Dean tells them to forget that they’re human—they’re zombies. Shoot them between the eyes. Headshot to the brain.

All Ava sees is people.

She summons Sarah again for the first time in years.

They decimate streets together. They hold off the devil’s legions together.

They kick butt.

Becky and Lily hate it. Becky makes sure the people do what they’re supposed to do—do their rounds, do their guard duty, do their raids, do their sleep, do each other (haha, don’t worry, Ava’s just joshing with her about that). Lily’s their field medic.

She’s never without her plastic gloves.

Ava hates the way they feel against her skin when Lily sews her back up again.

Sews her back up like a rag doll.

And then Andy doesn’t come back. He drives his van—their getaway—to block them from a wave of Croats. They tear him from the window, jagged pieces of glass sticking from his face and from his eyes, and he’s screaming and spitting shards of glass and bone and then they rip his throat out.

As she watches him die, her mouth open and screaming, her tongue saying words, Sarah whooping joyously as she unleashes a little bit of her own special kind of hell on those demons, she remembers that it had been Andy who had served up a dish of cicadas to one of the starving children when they had run out of food, when they had failed to find enough, when even Chuck had run out of tricks.

The kid had looked up at Andy and said that his momma used to have made him pancakes for breakfast, pancakes swimming and drowning in maple syrup.

You want me to make this—and Andy gestured grandly to the plate of creepy crawly bugs—taste like that?

And the kid had bobbed his head up and down like a wibbly-wobbly spinning top, and so the kid had tasted pancakes again one last time before he starved to death.

After that, Andy fulfilled food requests for anyone who wanted.

But the rest of them? The psychic kids—they just tasted bug guts.

Ava remembers that, remembers how the cicadas still shivered their membranes together in song (the earth is so quiet now), as she fights to save Andy, but she fails. It’s easier to see them as zombies after that.

Jake tries to find his faith. But fails. So he carves Buddhist prayer beads for Cas instead.

But if an angel can’t find his faith—then what hope does Jake?

Ava doesn’t say anything.

Charades was always her party favorite.

 _Don’t go_  Becky says.

 _Don’t go_  Lily says.

I gotta go, Ava says. I need to go. She spreads her arm, fingers curled in loose fists. I’m the heavyweight champion when it comes to controlling demons. And Sarah goes, _those goddamned sons of bitches._

Language, Ava says. Watch your goddamned mouth. I’ll wash it out with soap, just you watch me. Sanctified soap. Soap that’s been lied with holy water.

Ava has no idea how they make soap. That’s Chuck’s expertise.

The colt’s the most important thing we got, Ava says. Don’t you want to save the world?

They do, so Ava goes. And the next thing Ava knows is that her brain is exploding with blood and skin and flesh and meat against a legion of demons and Croats. Sarah screams, throws herself at them. But she’s not up there. She’s not a big bad boss.

She’s just Sarah.

They crush her as they crush Ava.

But, dropping to the floor, kneecaps crashing against concrete, demons overwhelming her, she sees Cas toss the Colt to Dean Winchester, and they get the hell out of dodge because she shouts at them to  _go to fucking go_  and Dean’s face hardens as he turns his back on her, as he trusts her to do this one last thing, to pinch off the flood of demons for a few extra minutes to run, just run, to survive, and Cas drags Jake off the field, struggling with him from behind while Lily pushes against his chest and maybe they’re screaming as they stare back over shoulders, blood crusting in their hair, and their eyes watering from the sting of smoke and sulphur as Ava dies like all the special children die—eventually.


End file.
